TWENTY-NINE - Alana

TWENTY-NINE

Alana

I'm small again, rocking back and forth, the carpet soft against my knees. I can smell vanilla. Where am I? Mama said to be quiet, so I am, but I'm scared. I can hear her with a man. Their words are sharp. Scary. I can't understand them but I hear them. I look up and see those windows. The long ones with the weird shape. It looks mean, but I don't know why.

She falls on the carpet next to me, her eyes so green, and I reach out, but big hands pull her back up.

I cry and shut my eyes.

Then glass shatters loudly. Seconds later, I hear squealing brakes.

I jerk awake as thunder bellows across the sky.

"Easy." Thorn rubs a hand down my arm, his body solid and strong behind me. His hand is chilled.

The room is warm. So I take his hand and pull it under the covers with us. Wait a minute. What's wrong with me? The man spanked me to orgasm the night before. With a belt.

"Tell me." It's an order. Sleepy, but a command nonetheless.

So I do, submitting again, remembering more as I speak. I think they're memories.

"How long did your mother live after this?" His breath stirs my hair, and even though my body is sore, part of me is glad he's here. He has the most intriguing way of making me feel safe from everything and everyone . . . but him.

I think back. "I don't remember. Not long. That whole time after my accident is a blur, and before, I don't remember anything." I stretch against him and note that his calves are cold as well. Perhaps he's coming down with something. "I'm not even sure it's a memory. Could just be a nightmare."

"The windows you heard shatter. Can you see them?"

Bile rises from my stomach. "No."

His arm tightens around my waist. "Nothing can hurt you. Tell that little girl in the dream that I'll slay any monster that comes at her for the rest of her life. And have her look at those windows."

I snuggle into him and close my eyes because he's right. I try to take myself back to the room, but I already know what I'll see. I huddle in the corner, my little arms around my legs, and look up to see the windows with the argyle crisscross pattern. My body shudders. "It's the windows. First they're put together with the pattern, and then they're broken, pieces of the design hanging in the wind."

Thorn rubs his whiskered chin on top of my head. "I'll look into your past."

"I can handle it." First, I need to speak with my father and then have Ella do a deep dive if I'm not satisfied with his answers. "If somebody hurt my mother or me, and they didn't pay, I'm going to kill them." The terror of the dream still chills my blood.

"No, you're not." His hand flattens over my abdomen and caresses up across both breasts to stretch across my upper chest, over my heart.

I stiffen. "You can't tell me you haven't killed people."

"I have and I do. You don't."

I stare into the darkened room, noting the brightening sky outside. "Why do you care about some killer?"

"I don't. But if you kill, you'll become somebody else—you'll lose a part of yourself, which means we both lose that part. If you're giving up pieces, it's only to me."

I think that's sweet? Or psychotic. "I'm not promising forever, but—"

"You already have. You gave yourself to me. There's no going back. Period." His tone is still lazy but now has a hint of a possessive edge.

I'm too tired to yank his ass into the current century. "I'm going to age. My boobs will drop, my skin wrinkle, and I could gain a hundred pounds. What then?"

He snorts. "You're still you, no matter what you look like. I'll still play with your boobs, pinch your skin, and love more of you. It's the essence of you, the very spirit, that I won't allow you to change. The rest is up to you." He stretches. "I'm tiring of waiting for you to come to your senses and return home."

"You had a date with the Rendale sisters," I burst out.

He chuckles. "I wondered if you would ever ask about that."

"Considering we're naked in my bed, you might want to explain." I sniff.

His hand feels like a brand across my skin, no longer cold. Maybe I imagined the chill. "They offered marriage to either of the women and didn't acknowledge Ella's existence."

Jealousy sears through me. "Marriage? Which one did you choose?"

"I choose you and you know it. Stop trying to start a fight. You won't win."

The morning takes over. I'm sore, overwhelmed, and confused. So I elbow him in the gut. "I just think—"

"That's it." He tosses the bedcovers out of the way, yanks me from the bed, and plants me on my knees with him standing over me. He grabs my hair and tugs back my head. "Find something better to do with that mouth." His hardened dick presses against my lips.

My mouth partially opens out of shock, and he shoves farther inside.

Truth be told, I'm curious about this. Although, he could've asked nicely. I wonder if he has any idea of how vulnerable he is right now.

His hand tightens in my hair. "If you even think of biting me, I promise you, I bite back. I'm sure you're sore from the belt."

My clit jerks in denial. "I'm not going to bite you," I say around the tip. "But I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Create a crater with your tongue, take me down your throat, and breathe out of your nose." His thumb presses into the hinge of my jaw, forcing it open wider. "And have some fun with it."

It's the last order that has me pausing. Good advice. So I do as he says, seeing how far I can take him. I gag a couple of times, but soon learn to breathe through my nose, and when he groans, I feel like a queen.

So I plant my hands on his thighs and feel them tighten. Then I go at him the same way he did with me, using my tongue and mouth and finally my hand, circling his girth. This would be impossible to do with a cold. I chuckle at the thought, and he groans louder. Fascinating. To have even a small ounce of command over Thorn Beathach is heady. I cup his balls and take him deeper, noting his hand tightening in my hair. He twists his fingers and regains control, fucking my mouth.

All I can do is lift my chin and breathe through my nose.

So much for command over him. My nipples sharpen and my clit pounds. My thighs become wet again, so I reach down and rub my punished body.

"Don't even think of coming," he says, his voice strained. "And you drink every drop."

I feel his body tighten before he spurts down my throat. He's so far down nothing even touches my tongue, so I grow still and wait, curious. Then it's over. He pulls out and I flick him with my tongue.

He lifts me back to the bed and kisses me, his arms tight. Then he leans back, a smile in his eyes. "Did you have fun?"

"I did." I bet I could get pretty good at that. He seems pleased, like a lazy lion in the sun. I like this side of him. My hands go back down my body.

"No." He pulls my hands free and pushes me back on the bed, dropping to a crouch and licking my clit. I'm sore, but the rough touch of his tongue nearly sends me into orbit. "You're close." He slides two fingers inside me.

I close my eyes, waiting for heaven.

Instead, he turns his head and sinks his teeth into my inner thigh.

I yelp and slap the top of his head.

His chuckle vibrates through me before he soothes the wound, kissing and licking it. Then he returns to my sex, torturing me until I'm writhing on the bed, making incoherent noises.

Finally, he stops and reaches up for my arms, pulling me to a seated position. This is new. Liquid is seeping from me, and I'm one good nip from an excellent orgasm.

I push my unruly hair away from my face. "What are you doing?"

"Punishment number one for not responding to my text." His eyes are still lazy with a hint of deadly seriousness.

What an ass. I reach down, and he slaps my hand.

"Hey," I say, shifting my weight and trying not to punch him in the face.

His hands encircle my wrists and he places them on my thighs. "I have rules, and when you break them, there are repercussions."

Oh, whatever. He can't stay all freaking day. It's almost morning, and I'm sure he needs to sneak out. The thought that one of the many snipers out there might shoot him brightens me for a moment. "You can't leave me tied to the bed all day, unable to touch myself. I have to go to work." When his chin lowers, I hasten to say, "That wasn't a challenge. Not at all. Only a statement."

"Smart girl," he says.

I bite back a sharp retort because I do have a brain.

He glances at the clock near the bed and then retrieves his slacks and shirt, buttoning it up. I have no idea how his entire ensemble looks unwrinkled. Must be an unnatural gift. When he draws on his jacket, he pulls out a phone and reads the face. "I have to leave in a couple of minutes."

"Okay." I'm still naked and he's fully dressed, and the weight of last night presses in.

As if he knows—because he seems to know everything—he palms the back of my head and leans over to kiss me as I sit on my bed. "Everything we do, everything we are, is perfect. Tell me you understand."

I look up at him, so tall and powerful, so dark and dangerous. "I understand." The temptation to fall into his universe is fierce, and I dig deep for a backbone. "You know we're not just in your world, right?"

Dark stubble covers his jaw, giving him the look of a wild rogue, despite the designer suit. "You entered my world the first time you opened your mouth and said please." He caresses my nape with sure and firm fingers. "What you don't seem to have figured out is that you're the absolute center of that world."

The words are sweet—I'll consider them later. Right now I need to get him out of my bedroom so I can get my little vibrator from the bedside table. Even his hand at the back of my neck is driving me crazy.

"When are you coming home?" he asks.

I wouldn't be human if that question didn't give me a little thrill. "I am home." I do have some pride.

"All right. Soon, then." He cups my jaw, his hold firm. "Do you believe me when I tell you something?"

"Yes." The word slips out before I can contemplate the answer. So far, he's always given me the truth, even while issuing rules and administering punishments.

"Good." His gaze rakes my nude body as I sit on the bed. "Your orgasms are mine, Alana. Get me?"

I force a smile. "Sure thing."

His smile is both mocking and a warning. "Rule number four: If you make yourself come without permission, I'm going to bend you over and fuck your ass, after you beg for it. And baby, you will beg for it. You're not ready for that."

I lean back, shock rushing through me.

He pauses. "I'd never hurt you, and I promise I'll make sure you want it someday. But you won't like it this early—especially afterward when you have time to think. Don't make me prove it to you." He holds my attention until I instinctively nod.

With a hard kiss to my lips, he turns and slips out of the bedroom. All of the tension dissipates.

Well, crap.